


Photographs of War

by RockyRants



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: European Front, M/M, WWII AU, Wartime AU, world war ii au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-09-25 23:04:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9850835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockyRants/pseuds/RockyRants
Summary: The year is 1944 and American forces have finally entered the European Theater in France. Never knowing which day could be their last, Technical Sergeant Oswald Cobblepot finds himself slowly falling for the only other man in his platoon that seems to want to take the time to get to know him; Medical Specialist Edward Nygma finds a friend and maybe something more; Second Lieutenant Jim Gordon fights for his own brand of glory and recognition in the eyes of a man he's looked up to since the war began; and First Lieutenant Harvey Bullock tries his damnedest to not let his feelings cloud his judgement as the leader of G Company.





	1. Letters Home

**Author's Note:**

> For the amazing selene-yoshi-chan on Tumblr and her incredible pieces of WWII AU Nygmobblepot and Gordlock. I had to make this a multi chapter fic because of reasons.

Dear Mother,   

I finally received your letter last week. It has been difficult getting time to write back to you as we’ve been marching non stop. Don’t worry, we haven't come under any fire. Lieutenant Bullock says that there’s no reason to be worried, but I can see he looks more and more drained the closer we get to the boarder.   

It’s beautiful here. I can see why you loved it and why it was so hard to leave. We might be entering the front lines soon, but I can hardly get a word out of the upper ranks.   

They tell me that we’re getting closer to your home town. I’ll bring something back for you, I promise. Thank you for the chocolates you sent me. Don’t worry, they didn’t melt. I would share them but I don’t particularly have anyone to share them with. 

  I promise that I’ll be home as soon as I can. I hope I am making you proud.   

Love, 

 Oswald

Oswald Cobblepot, Technical Sergeant, kept his lamp as steady as he could as he wrote out the letter to his mother. Usually he would have written pages upon pages of a letter, but even he had begun to feel weary as his regimen marched through the North of Italy towards Germany. He carefully folded up the letter and began digging through his sack, looking for an envelope.  

“You should be sleeping.” A voice whispered harshly behind him. Oswald jumped and turned to face their medical specialist, Edward Nygma.  

“I don’t report to you.” He hissed back out, doing his best to not wake any of the other regimen members up. He could have sworn he had an extra envelope in his bag. He needed it. If his mother didn’t hear from him she’d start to get worried.

“I start with an ‘e’ and end with an ‘e’ but usually only have one letter, what am I?” Ed asked with a smile. Oswald turned to him, blinking.

“What are you on about?”

  “An Envelope.” Ed said, holding up the paper item. He handed it to Oswald, “I noticed you were writing a letter so you can have this. I don’t plan on doing much writing while we’re stationed out here anyway.” He pushed his glasses back up on his nose.  

Oswald took the envelope from Ed carefully and turned back to his letter. He wrote out his mother’s name and address with care and tucked the letter inside.  

“You’re from Gotham?” Ed asked. Oswald turned to look at him and nodded, “I mean I guess I’m not surprised. Word among the upper ranks is that you were pretty ruthless in your training.”   

“Then you’d know probably to not get too close to me.” Oswald said coldly, tucking the letter back into his sack. He would mail it as soon as they got to an actual outpost. He looked to Ed, “Shouldn’t you be over with the other medical officers?” 

Ed nodded to the group of soldiers, “Shouldn’t you be with the others as well?”   

“I couldn’t sleep.”   

“That makes two of us.”  

“Cobblepot, I swear to God if you don’t shut up and go to sleep I will come over there and smother you with your own knapsack.” Harvey Bullock’s voice rang out clear as day, “If you’re not on watch, you go to sleep. That’s how this works.” 

Oswald’s cheeks went red and he laid back on his knapsack, looking up at the sky. 

  “Can I sleep here?” Ed asked gesturing to the space next to Oswald. The smaller man shrugged. Ed settled down, “I’m Ed by the way, Edward Nygma.” He offered his hand to Oswald to shake. 

“Oswald. Cobblepot.”

  “Interesting last name.” Ed said, settling down.

  “…I’m first generation American. My mother is from here.” Oswald tugged his thin blanket higher on his body.   

“Where about?”   

“You ask an awful lot of questions, you know that right?” He said, looking over at the medical officer.  

Ed folded up his glasses and tucked them away in his case from home. He looked up at Oswald and shrugged.  

“I like to know things about people. Helps to keep them calm if I have to work on them in the field.” Ed explained, settling down as well, “It helps to let them know there’s a world outside of… of all of this.”

“Where were you stationed before this?”  

“I did a brief stint in the Pacific. Midway. I was supposed to stay studying for another year but after all the bombing my Dad took me out of school and sent me out there to help. Thought it would be more useful.” He itched the back of his neck, “He sent me over here after everything settled down. Thought I could be more useful in the cold than I could in the heat.”

Oswald sat up, “You don’t do heat very well?” He asked with a small smirk.  

“Not so much. I’m from Gotham, too, you know how cold our winters get. Put someone like us in the humidity of the Pacific? It’s not a pretty picture.” He offered Oswald a smile, “Wounds are easier to treat in non-humid climates too. Less chance for infection.” He swallowed, “I think he was surprised I actually came back from Midway.”  

“Danzig.” Oswald said after a long pause, “My mother’s from Danzig. You asked earlier where she was from.” 

Ed sat up, eyes a bit wide.   “Is that why you’re-”  

“I avoided getting into this mess until I knew we were coming here.” He said with a small laugh, “I can’t justify fighting in some war in the Pacific with territory I don’t care about.”   

“You must be very close with her.”

  “I have to be. She’s all I have.”

He looked over his shoulder at the other troops and fumbled around in his bag for a moment before pulling out the chocolate that his mother had sent him. He broke off a small square and handed it to Ed.  

“You know back at camp this would have gotten you in a lot of trouble.” He said with a smile, nibbling on the square of chocolate.

  “You’d be surprised at how much contraband I can hide. Probably one of the reasons I was transferred here.” Oswald broke off a square for himself and stowed the rest.   

“You’re a transfer, too?”  

Oswald nodded, “I was stationed in North Africa before this. My Lieutenants weren't too fond of me. I was only with this platoon for… five days before we dropped off.”

  “Sergeant Cobblepot.” Bullock called out again, “One more fucking peep out of you and I swear to all that is holy on this earth, you will be doing watch duty every night until we get to the front.” 

“Is that a promise, Sir?” Oswald called out, causing the few troops who were still awake to chuckle. A rock flew through the air and hit the ground right near Oswald’s head. Oswald dodged it, rolling closer to Ed. Oswald looked over at his new found friend and found him smiling.

“You get yourself into a lot of shit, don’t you?” Ed asked.

  “Not on purpose.” Oswald smiled.

  “Me neither.” 

“I’m gonna kill him.” Harvey said as they marched on through the forrest. He rubbed his tired eyes. 

  “I would think of all people, you would be used to sleeping with noise.” Jim Gordon, Second Lieutenant, hiked his gun higher-up on his shoulder. Harvey shook his head.   

“No. Not out here.” The man said with a slight frown on his face. Harvey glanced behind him when he heard a small laugh. He saw Ed and Oswald marching together, he rolled his eyes, “Nygma.” 

“Yes, Sir?” Ed looked from Oswald to the leading officer, his smile dropping. Harvey motioned for him to join him up front. Ed jogged to catch up with him.

“What are you doing out of rank?”  

“I was just-“  

“Ed.”

  “No excuse, Sir.” 

Harvey sighed, “Look, Nygma. I did your old man a favor after he took such great care of me the last time I was over here. We saw a lot of shit together. And trust me when I say that when you’re getting fired at you want to make sure the guy next to you is keeping you safe.” He took a deep breath, “Cobblepot is not that kind of man. He got transferred to us because he needs a firm hand after what happened to him in Africa.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “The point is, he’s shifty. Don’t be hanging around him.”

  “The fewer of me you have, the more I am worth, what am I?”

  “Ed. Not now.” Harvey rolled his eyes. 

“A friend.” Jim said with a small smirk. He knew that Ed’s riddles constantly got under Harvey’s skin, but he didn’t mind them. They kept the marches interesting. Ed beamed at him.  
 

“Correct. I think he’s pretty harmless. You know he’s from Gotham too. You always say we have to look out for each other and if no one’s looking out for him we-”  Harvey slapped a hand over Ed’s mouth, silencing him.   

“Shut up.” He held up his hand to still the platoon. He looked back to Ed, “Go back to your rank.” He motioned for the platoon to get down and take cover.  

Oswald frowned as Ed jogged right past him to go and take cover with the other medical officers. They ignored him as much as they could. Oswald narrowed his eyes. Why did they ignore him so much? Ed was able to keep up with the rest of the troupe just fine. He wasn’t lagging behind or causing anything bad to happen. Why on earth was he- 

The first round of gunshots firing from the woods shocked Oswald out of his thoughts. He sat up on his elbows just enough to peer over the bit of dirt he was hiding behind to see where the fire was coming from. He aimed his guns and began firing away. A bullet whizzed past his head and he pressed his face into the dirt to hide from it. It was no different than being at home he told himself. No different. He raised his head again, adjusting his helmet before firing again.   

Harvey reloaded his gun, back pressed against the dirt he hid behind. He looked over at Jim.   

“How many?” He barked out.  “Can’t be more than ten the way they’re shooting.” Jim called back, lifting his head, “We’re not gong to hit any of them well enough from this distance.” He looked at Harvey.   

The Irishman raised his eyebrows and shook his head, “Don’t-” 

He spoke too late however. Jim was already up and walking towards the enemy, not even bothering to squat down as he fired at them. A bullet nipped him in the arm, but he hardly let it phase him. He just kept firing, keeping his finger on the trigger.

Oswald shook his head, but pushed himself up from his position laying down to follow Jim, firing at the enemy.  

It was over just as quickly as it began. German corpses littered the forrest floor in front of them.   

“JIM THATS ENOUGH!” Harvey barked out, grabbing the man’s shoulder. He stared at him, “Everyone okay?!” He looked back at the troupe and then he caught sight of Jim’s bleeding arm, “Medic.” He called with a disgruntled huff, “You’re gonna get your stupid ass killed one of these days charging in like that. Next time I say ‘wait for my command’ you wait for my command. You’re a lieutenant. Act like one.”  

Jim grinned, “I thought I was.”   

Harvey walked past him, pushing Jim’s head a little bit as he went. He opened his map from his pocket and went to map out their location. 

Oswald huffed, catching his breath, checking himself for any injuries. He saw Ed unpacking a few bandages, running over to Jim. He sat the man down on a nearby log and went to bandaging him up. Oswald tipped his head in curiosity as he watched Ed patch Jim up with the utmost dexterity. Yet his gun looked just about untouched. Interesting.

Oswald walked over and picked up Ed’s weapon. He checked the magazine. Not a single shot fired. He glanced back over at the medic. It seemed that Nygma was just full of surprises. Oswald made his way over to Harvey.  

“Can I help you, Sergeant Cobblepot.” Harvey half growled out, “I should be reprimanding you too for following Lieutenant Gordon without orders to do so.”   

“You make a higher pay grade than him. That’s all.” He looked to Harvey, “Nygma didn’t shoot anything.”  

“He’s not supposed to.”  
“What do you mean he’s not supposed to?” Oswald said with a sneer on his face and a quizzical look in his eye. Harvey rolled his eyes and pushed himself off of the tree he was leaning again.  

“You see those things on Ed’s face? Those are called glasses, Cobblepot. He can’t see his target very well so him and I had a private discussion about him focusing on fixing our soldiers rather than run the risk of accidentally shooting them.” He folded up his map and walked over to Ed and Jim, “Good to go?” He asked.  

Jim moved his arm around, “It barely got me.” He said with a shit eating grin.  

“I expect that kind of behavior from a private. Not someone like you.” He helped Jim to stand, “Don’t get yourself killed, you putz.”   

“I’ll try my best not to.” Jim said, hiking his gun back onto his shoulder.  

Ed tucked away his medical supplies and went to go pick his gun back up, only to find Oswald holding it.

  “You didn’t shoot.” Oswald said, looking up at Ed.   The taller man took the gun from Oswald’s hands carefully, making sure the safety was on before hooking the strap over his shoulder.  

“I’m not a very good shot.” he admitted, pushing his glasses up more on his face, “If it weren’t for my dad I probably wouldn’t even be in the military in the first place.” He said, helping Oswald to stand, “You go in guns blazing, don’t you?”

  “Somebody has to. Else we would just run out of ammo and then sit here unprotected. Though I prefer to let men like Lieutenant Gordon go first.”   

“You weren’t hurt were you? I know Jim got nipped by a bullet but-” 

Oswald held up a hand, shaking his head, “No. I’m not as tall as him. I’m fast. It would take a lot to hit me.” He said.   

“Moving out!” Harvey’s voice called out.   

Ed smiled, “I’m sure it would.” He picked up his supplies and jogged back to join the rest of the medical team. Oswald watched him go. Eyes squinting curiously. This one would be fun to pick apart.


	2. A Strong Stomach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> G Company does its best to secure a nearby town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been hella inspired for this fic so that's why this update is coming so quickly!
> 
> TW: There is mentions of some detailed gore in this chapter.

Dear Mother, 

We are getting closer to the German boarder each and every day. I hope I can reach Danzig for you, one of the men here is carrying a camera around. I want to bring pictures back for you.  
    
I think I’ve made a friend. His name is Edward Nygma. He’s quite talkative, a big fan of riddles. He told me quite a good one yesterday: What loses its head in the morning and gets it back at night? 

  It’s a pillow. 

  I thought it was clever. It’s nice to have some mental stimulation beyond military tactics. He’s nice. I’m almost certain he has a girl back home, always keeps a photo of her on him. But I’ve never seen him write a letter. I’m sure there must be someone back home who misses him.   I’ll write to you again as soon as we hit the next town.   

Love,  
Oswald

 

The one thing Oswald actually enjoyed about being stationed in Europe was the countryside that they got the chance to walk through. They had left their position in the last town a few nights ago, and walking through the countryside was actually quite lovely. The front had moved since they had first landed, the first bought of soldiers doing most of the heavy work to push the Germans back into their own territory. But there was more fighting to be done. 

Most of the soldiers in G Company were transfers. Reserves from other fronts that had been brought in after the devastating losses at Utah and Omaha. At least that’s what Oswald had been told when he had transferred to this regimen. He hadn’t been in Europe when they landed on the beach, he had just barely set foot in England before they shipped him off to the mainland. It didn’t matter much to him though. War was the same everywhere you went.

Suddenly they stopped. Harvey said it was for a quick water break, but Oswald knew better. In line with Jim’s recommendation and their training from camp, they were supposed to save their water for when they really needed it.   Oswald inhaled his cigarette deeply, passing it to Ed as he blew the smoke out from his lungs. He gave a nod towards Harvey, who was standing further away from the group as if being a lookout. His helmet was in his hands.  
  “What’s his problem?” He asked, glancing to Ed, “You’ve been around him longer than I have.”   

Ed looked up from the ground where he had been doodling with a stick he found and took a thoughtful drag of the cigarette. Blowing out the smoke he scratched his forehead with his thumb and glanced to Harvey.

 “How much dirt is in a trench that’s ten feet long and three feet wide?”  

Oswald furrowed his eyebrows, “None?”

  “Correct. But a lot of bodies, though.” Ed said with a frown on his face. Oswald tilted his head in confusion only to have Ed gesture around them with a flick of his wrist. It was the first time that Oswald took the time to look around him. He could see now the rise and fall of the land. It wasn’t normal. Little hills dotted the countryside. 

“You okay?” Jim put a hand on Harvey’s shoulder, making him jump a little bit. Harvey shrugged.   

“There’s grass here now.” He said quietly, “How old were you?”  

Jim stuck his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath, “When you all came over here? Three I think. Four? I was four when everyone came back, I remember that much.”   Harvey let out a harsh laugh and ran a hand through his hair thumbing at the edge of his helmet.   

“I keep forgetting how young everyone in this damn platoon is.”

  “You were their age once.”  

“Younger, forged signatures to get into the war.” He laughed again and took a shaky breath, “…We weren’t supposed to come back here. We had fixed everything. We did our fighting…”   

Jim nodded, “…Some times you gotta fix something a couple times before it works right. We do this right? We won’t have to come back.”  

Harvey took a small, shaking breath and put his helmet back on, “I really hope you’re right.” He turned to face the troop, “Alright G Company! Moving out!” 

~~~

Ed jogged up to march alongside Oswald as they began to near a village. They could all see the roofs of the building peeking out above the tree line. It was quiet.

“I don’t like this.” Ed said quietly. 

“What, the quiet?”

Ed shook his head, “We haven’t come under fire for over twenty miles.” He said with a frown, “I know that we’ve pushed them back, but this seems almost too easy.”

Oswald looked at him with a smirk, “Need to see a little bit of blood, Edward?” he asked. 

“I’d prefer not to.” He pushed his glasses up on his nose, “But you have to admit this isn’t what we signed up for.” Oswald found himself nodding in agreement.  Harvey held up his hand at the front of the troupe, signaling them to stop.  

“I swear, if we’re lost-” Oswald spat out, rolling his eyes. 

“We’re not lost. Something else is wrong.” Ed narrowed his eyes. 

Harvey motioned for Jim to come up to the front with him as he looked over a map. 

“We haven’t hit any opposing forces this far.” Jim said, glancing over Harvey’s shoulder, “It’s too quiet out here. You know it too quiet.” 

“I know. I’m trying to see if we have a more detailed map of that village up ahead. At least something slightly more detailed than this.” He smacked the map with his other hand, “We need to secure that village up there. Just for a night or two.” He glanced to Jim, “What do you think?”

Jim looked over their troops, “Split up the men? Make us harder to hit if anything is waiting for us there. You can take the eastern flank and I’ll take some men around the western side. If we do face any resistance we can flush them out up north. That way we won’t risk running into them again when we get moving.” 

Harvey nodded and tucked the map away, “You know where you’re going?”  Jim grinned at him. 

“Always do. And if I don’t I figure it out.”

“You figuring shit out is what worries me.” He said, patting Jim’s shoulder. He turned around, “Left flank, follow me, right with Gordon!” He called out, he caught sight of Ed next to Oswald again and sighed, “Nygma, with me.” He said, gesturing to the man. 

Ed gave Oswald a small shrug and a nod before following Harvey off in a separate direction. He looked over his shoulder and offered the man a small smile as he walked away. 

“Finally made a friend, Cobblepot?” Jim said, nudging Oswald’s shoulder.  

Oswald marched next to Jim and gave a small shrug.   “He talks to me if that’s what you mean, James.”  

“I told you, Oz, you can call me Jim.”  

“I’d prefer to call you James. That’s the name your parents gave you anyway.” He slung his gun higher on his shoulder, “Can you answer a question for me?”  

“I’ll try my best.” Jim shrugged.  

“Why is Nygma here if he can’t shoot? Why not keep him in a field hospital or back in Britain?”

  Jim scratched the back of his neck, “He’s got one of the strongest stomachs I’ve ever seen when it comes to treating people out here. I’ve seen him treat a man whose leg got blown clean across the field and keep him from going into shock long enough to get him to safety. Hell, I’ve seen him clean the guts out of a man and sew him back up so they could bury his body back at home without being too scared of him.” He looked at Oswald, “He’s damn good at what he does.”  Oswald looked across the field as Harvey and the rest of the troops began disappearing over the hill. Ed seemed to be more than he appeared.  
   
As they neared the village, Oswald followed Jim slightly more closely, staying low to the ground. Jim was a good man to be behind, he decided. After all who else would go in guns blazing when faced with the enemy?   Jim signaled for the soldiers to stay down and behind. A typical lieutenant would send one of his sergeants to go and clear the area ahead of him. Jim was certainly not a typical lieutenant. He stayed low to the ground before standing up to give the all clear.   It came too soon however.

Oswald considered Jim to be probably the luckiest man alive, he decided. The glass of the window Jim was standing next to shattered, a bullet flying by his head. He ducked, covering his own head, despite the bits of glass lodged in the back of his hand. 

  “Secure the area!” He yelled out, grabbing his gun as he knelt behind the wall. The soldiers leapt into the bushes and behind buildings, moving as quickly as they could. 

Oswald adjusted his helmet and followed to where Jim was kneeling behind the wall of the building.   He grabbed a grenade off of his strap and tossed it into the building, keeping his head down as it went off. Oswald stood as soon as the blast went off and began firing into the building, clearing the broken glass away before jumping into the room. He helped Jim over the ledge as well.   

“Can you still shoot?” he asked, looking at Jim’s bleeding hand. 

Jim picked a few of the larger pieces of glass out of his flesh and nodded.   “I’m fine.” He grumbled out, holding his gun up again as shots began to rain down on them. Jim shot out the window on the other side of the room, diving to roll underneath it. Oswald watched Jim’s back, quickly reaching in his pocket for the mirror he used for shaving. He opened it and angled it to try and see who was shooting at them.    The building across the street, one floor up, there was a sniper with his gun trained on the building. He glanced up, seeing a pool of light coming through the now open window. He lay on his stomach, doing his best to avoid the rain of bullets, scooting forward just far enough to reflect the light back into the eyes of the sniper.

As soon as the bullets stopped, Jim stood up quickly, firing into the building and taking out the snipers in the window. Oswald tucked his mirror back into his pocket and stood again, looking for their next place to move. From the other side of the small village he could hear the yells of the other men. He looked to Jim. 

  “Looks like Bullock showed up.” He said, pushing the door open, dodging another bullet that whizzed by the doorframe. Oswald walked out, keeping himself low to the ground as he fired at the kraut in front of him till the man fell. He ran to the other side and pressed himself up another wall until Jim followed. He looked at Jim’s face, seeing the worry across it, “First time fighting without him?”  

“Shut up and shoot, Cobblepot.” He spat out.   

~~~

Across the town, Ed found himself hiding behind a while, gun clasped close to his chest. Harvey hit him on the shoulder.   

“Go clear that house!” He barked out, motioning to a house a couple hundred yards away. Ed kept himself low, gun at the ready even though Harvey didn’t like him shooting. This was different though. There was so much going on that Ed knew he might have to use his gun at some point. He reached up and touched one of the grenades he carried on his strap. If he was going to throw it he wanted to be sure it would be worth it.

He kicked open the door to the house, gun at the ready. As he carefully walked through the house he was quick to open doors and look closely at everything. He found one door locked and kicked it open as well. He pointed the gun at the people inside, but was quick to lower it, finding a family cowering from the fighting. He gave them a small nod and closed the door again. He took a deep breath, trying to shut out the noise of the shooting going on around him.   It was the one thing he didn’t enjoy about being in Europe. There were civilians here. Too many civilians.

Ed headed back out of the house, hearing talking from around the corner. He picked a grenade from his shoulder and walked around the corner. His eyes went wide as he saw a group of German soldiers behind one of their cannons. He pulled the pin quickly and chucked it at them. They fired their cannon and Ed hit the ground quickly, hands over his own head.

He couldn’t hear anything but the ringing in his ears. He cleared the dust from his face, coughing as he stood up. He grabbed his gun with a shaking hand and looked behind the corner again to see that the grenade had gone off, killing the enemy soldiers. He leaned against the house and slid down the side of it, catching his breath for a moment. 

  “NYGMA!” Harvey’s voice echoed out, “You still alive over there?!”  Ed adjusted his helmet quickly, jumping back up to his feet. He could rest when all of this was over, when there was time to breathe.He kept his gun up, looking around the corner to see Harvey running close to him. He nodded.

  “All clear. Civilian family inside. I didn’t see any guns.” He said, taking a few deep breaths. Harvey walked around the corner Ed had just come from to see the damage. He put a hand on Ed’s shoulder.  

“You did good.” He said simply. Ed flinched as Harvey put his hand on his shoulder. Harvey immediately lifted his hand to see a bit of blood seeping through Ed’s uniform, 

“You need a medic.” Ed shook his head.   

“I’m fine.” He said with a careful breath.   The shots seemed to die down and Ed and Harvey could make out the yells that began to come in English. They could hear Jim’s voice barking orders from the other side, calling for a medic. Ed took a deep breath and wiped the fallout from his glasses before putting them back on and jogging in the general direction of Jim’s voice. 

~~~

Oswald supported one of his fellow soldiers as he walked him into an empty cafe. They had turned the large open area into a makeshift hospital, medics looking at each injured soldiers, doing the best that they could with what they had.

  “Here. Ricochet bullet to the ankle.” He said depositing the soldier into a chair. He glanced around the room, “Where’s Ed?” He asked the other medical officer, Mario Calvi. The man gestured to a back room. 

“He’s got the bad wounds in the back. Kitchen was as sterile a place as we could get to.” Calvi explained.   

Oswald swallowed thickly and made his way back to the kitchen. He saw a man sitting up on one of the prep tables, leg blown off from the shin down. The soldier had a bloodied jacket balled up in his fist. Ed knelt in front of him working on bandaging up the leg as best as he could, sewing together the mangled edges of flesh.   

“You grew up near Coney Island then?” He asked, looking up at the soldier who looked like he was about to pass out, “Hey, stay with me,” Ed’s voice was surprisingly gentle much to Oswald’s surprise, “What was your favorite ride at Coney Island?”  

“I liked the roller coaster.” The man gritted out, letting out a pained yell as Ed sewed over a blown out nerve. 

  “I know. I know. This seems like more of a roller coaster, doesn’t it?” He said looking up at the man, “Do you like riddles?”  

The soldier shook his head, “N-not usually.” He gripped his jacket tighter. 

  “I’ll give you some easy ones. Answer them as fast as you can.” Ed washed the wound gently, clearing away excess blood from the tissue before going back to bandaging it up, “If you feed me I live, but if I drink I die, what am I?”  

“Fire.” 

“The more you take, the more you leave behind?”  

“F-f-ootsteps. Fucking hell!” The man laid back, letting out a loud, pained groan. Oswald walked further into the room and undid his belt, handing the strip of leather to the man to bite down on while Ed worked on him. He gave the soldier his hand to squeeze as well, knowing that the jacket wasn’t doing much.   

“Almost done here. Then we’re gonna get you on a transport and get you back home as soon as we can, alright?” He looked up at the man, “We’ve got some tanks coming in and we’re going to get you back home.” He finished patching up the man as best he could, tucking the ends of the bandages in and fastening them. He stood up, blood still oozing slightly from his own shoulder and put his arm around the man’s waist, “Oswald, can you help me take him to where we have the cots set up?”  Oswald nodded. They walked the one legged man to a makeshift cot. Ed worked quickly, taking excess fabric from the man’s sack and creating a low hanging sling from one of the rafters of the cafe.

  “There you go.” He said, positioning the man’s leg into the sling, “We gotta keep this above your heart. You’re going to be okay though. I promise.” Ed smiled and patted the man’s shoulder as he looked like he was about to pass out from pain, “Hey. What’s brown and sticky?”

  The injured soldier managed a small laugh and a smile, “A stick.” He said weakly. Ed smiled at him.  

“Good.” He stood and began walking towards more of the injured soldiers when Oswald stopped him and dragged him back to the kitchen, “Oswald is something wrong? Did you get hit?” He asked a frown on his face.   

“You’re bleeding.” Oswald said, digging through Ed’s supplies. Ed looked at his shoulder.   

“I’m okay, really… It’ll- it should stop bleeding in a while. I’m fine.” He made a move to get up but Oswald pushed him back into the chair.   

“Shirt off.”  

“You’re not a medical officer.” 

  “I still know how to do stitches.” he said. Ed looked at him hesitantly before taking off his green top, leaving him in just his undershirt.   Oswald cleaned the wound carefully, making sure that there wasn’t any cloth stuck in it or touching it. He took out the pliers and stitching material from Ed’s kit and began to work carefully. Much to Oswald’s surprise, Ed didn’t make a single noise. His hand clenched, but nothing more than that.   It was then that Oswald could make out small lines up and down Edward’s forearm. He blinked, pausing his stitching for a moment. Ed looked up at him and then followed Oswald’s eyes down to his arm. He quickly grabbed the jacket and placed it over his skin again. 

  “You almost done?” He asked, looking straight ahead. Oswald nodded and finished stitching up his friend. He clipped the final stitch and cleaned the wound again before he began to bandage it.   “I can-”  
 

“I want to help.” Oswald cut Ed off, wrapping the man’s shoulder as carefully as he could.   

“I’m not made of glass, Oswald, you don’t have to be so gentle with me. It’s just a little nick.”

  “Large enough that it wouldn’t stop bleeding.” He pointed out as he finished bandaging it up, “How’d I do?” he handed his mirror to Ed. The man looked at his shoulder, appraising Oswald’s work and nodded.   

“If I die out here you might make a decent medical officer.” He said with a dry laugh. Oswald didn’t smile.   

“You’re not going to die out here. Not on my watch.” He said quietly, “Do you always ask your patients riddles?” He asked, changing the subject.   

“Sometimes. When the pain is really bad. It forces their brain to think of something other than pain. It helps.” Ed smiled and stood, putting his shirt on again, “Thank you. For helping me out.”   

“Why is your uniform so dusty?”  

“Cannon fire. You came out unscathed I see.” he looked Oswald over and saw his hand bandaged, “Or not…” He grabbed the man’s hand, looking at the bandaging job. It was wrapped like a boxer would wrap his hands before a fight.   
   
 “I- it was just a bit of glass. I got it out. It’s fine.”  

“Did you bandage yourself up?” He asked. Oswald nodded.   “I’m used to it. I’ve never had a medic at my beck and call before.” He said with a shit eating grin.  Jim poked his head into the room with a frown on his face. Ed looked at him. He knew that look.   

“Who is it?”

  “Alvarez.” 

 Ed swallowed and nodded, “Anything I need to take out or is he still… is he still put together?” He asked. 

  Jim rubbed the back of his neck, “Can you mend a bullet hole through the neck? He-” Jim took the time to take a deep breath, “He’s all bled out so it should be pretty easy to clean him up if you wanted.” 

  Ed nodded, “I’ll take care of it.” He gathered his supplies and left. 

Harvey stood over Alvarez’s body. They had it laid out on the street with the other. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Alvarez should have been able to survive the day. He was one of the better soldiers. One who had been with him from the beginning of this godforsaken war. Harvey looked up when he heard footsteps running closer and saw Ed.   

“Damage?” Ed asked after a moment of silence. Harvey shook his head. 

  “Twelve men down. Something like fifteen injured today?” He said, “You don’t have to patch them all up before they get shipped back.” He said quietly, helmet in his hand again.   

Ed looked up at him, “I can do it. By the time they get back to England it will be too late to patch them up should their families want to actually see them again before… before everything.”   

Harvey nodded, “You got a long night ahead of you, Nygma.” He said, patting the man’s shoulder.

~~~

Ed nudged Oswald lightly in the middle of the night. The rest of the troops seemed to be resting their eyes, at least for a few hours, during the night. Oswald blinked his bleary eyes, but then noticed who was standing above him.   

“Hey.” He said, scooting over to make room on the soft ground for Ed. Ed plopped down beside the other and looked at him, “You okay?” Ed nodded, but still didn’t speak. Oswald worried his lip for a moment, “Is this the most you’ve lost during one day?”  Ed laughed harshly and shook his head. 

“No… No today was light compared to what we had before all of you replacements started showing up.” 

“…Maybe you should take time to write to your girl.” Oswald plucked at some of the grass beneath his fingers.  

“My girl?” Ed gave him a confused look. 

  “I mean unless that photograph you carry with you is your sister. But I mean you two don’t look very much alike.” He said, nodding to Ed’s sack.   Ed began laughing. A small giggle at first that launched into a round of full laughter. He was promptly shushed by the other members of the troop. Ed shook his head and fiddled around in the bag to pull out a picture of a young woman in a pair of glasses. 

  “This is uhm… this is Miss Kringle. Kristen. I went to High school with her.” He said with a small laugh, “I always had a crush on her. I wrote her letters when I was first stationed.” he frowned slightly, “She never wrote back. Guess I wasn’t her type.” He tucked the photo away again.  

“Why do you keep it then? Then picture.”  

“To remind me I’ve still got a place to go back to when I’m done here.” He half whispered, “When you’re out here… you can forget that there’s anything normal waiting back home.”  

Oswald shrugged, “Depends on what you mean by normal.” 

  “I mean a bed, a roof over your head, a 9 to 5 job where you don’t have to worry about having someone’s life in your hands…” Ed held his hands out for emphasis, “Normal…”  

Oswald took a deep breath, “Yeah… Normal.” He said quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always appreciate comments and kudos.


	3. Stamps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the troops sit and wait for their marching orders, Oswald teaches Ed how to shoot. Jim learns why Harvey doesn’t write letters home.

Dear Mother,  
We lost fifteen men securing this village. It’s the largest loss the company has sustained since we came over here. But we’re safe now. The rest of us anyway. I gave the last bits of the chocolate you sent to some of the worse off men. I don’t know if some of them will even make it home. Most of the men that we lost the other day were replacements like me. Ones that didn’t know how to shoot a gun as well.  
It’s times like this that I miss you. Military men aren’t ones for kind words and reassuring phrases.   My friend Edward made it out alright. I watched him work on a few men. Jim Gordon was right, he’s very good at what he does. We need more people like Ed out here. He’s a good man, mother.  
I hope to get a letter from you soon. I miss them.   
  Love,  
 Oswald

Oswald handed the envelope over to one of the convoy drivers, the man said that he would send it out as soon as he got back to the base.     
Oswald tucked his hands into his pockets as he walked back through the village. They had taken it over and liberated it. Most of the people were civilians who had done their best to stay alive while their town was overrun with Germans. Even then, there were not very many civilians left in the town. Most of them had left when the Germans came, doing their best to flee with what little they could carry and their lives. Now it was just a base for G Company while they waited for more supplies and marching orders to move forward.

Oswald found Ed writing in his field journal behind one of the buildings. He plopped down next to the man and offered him a cigarette.  

“I didn’t know you wrote.” He said, lighting up his own smoke. Ed leaned in for a light as well, nodding as he took a deep drag.   

“I don’t write to anyone in particular. But keeping a journal at least lets me unload everything that’s going on up here.” He tapped his head and adjusted his glasses again. Oswald leaned in to see what the man was writing, only to have Ed half shut the book, “Really?”

  “Oh, come on,” Oswald said with a smile, “It’s not like the things you’ve experienced I haven’t experienced, too.” 

Ed sighed and showed him his work, “Just writing about the injuries our men have had, a few diagrams. Simple things.”   Oswald took the book and looked at the page that Ed had opened for him. He didn’t flip the pages to read through the journal, respecting Ed’s privacy enough. He did saw the detailed drawing of the leg that Ed had fixed up yesterday. 

 “You did this all from memory?” he asked, looking closely at the diagram.

Ed nodded as Oswald handed the journal back to him.   “Well, I’m not going to make one of my patients sit there and sketch everything out while they’re potentially bleeding out now am I?” He asked, “I think it would be good to write a book when I get home on in-field medicine. We’ve had to come such a far way from the Great War, it might be good to update some of the files that we have.”   

Oswald nodded and took another drag from his cigarette. He silently lifted the gun that Ed carried on his hip from its holster without the man noticing and looked it over. Ed glanced over at him, blinking first at the gun that Oswald held in his hand and then down at his own holster.

  “How’d you do that?”  

“Believe me, if I could draw like you, I wouldn’t have learned the talent to do this.” he dangled the gun from his fingers, “I grew up in the Narrows, you think I don’t know how to lift things off of another person?” He asked, “Big things and small.” He held up the watch that Ed had had around his wrist and handed it back to the other man while keeping the gun in his hand. He examined it closely, “You’ve never fired this thing in your life, have you?” Ed shook his head.   

“I can dismantle it and tell you every single part of it down to the screws.” Ed offered. 

  “I didn’t ask that. I asked if you had ever fired this.”  

“They didn’t want me shooting when I was serving in the Pacific. My job was to save lives not take them. Over here… over here is different.” He shrugged a shoulder up, “I’m still not very good. I shot my rifle, though, yesterday.”

“Did you hit anything?”

“With a grenade, yes.” Ed grinned and Oswald hopped to his feet, helping the taller man up. 

  “Come with me.” He said, motioning for Ed to follow him. 

“Why?”

“I’m not going to let you march with the rest of us without the ability to protect yourself. Just follow me.”

They walked through the town to the cafe where they’d set up the hospital. It was now doubling as a makeshift base for some of the higher up officers. As they walked through the cafe Ed began to notice how Oswald moved more and more. 

  The short man lifted ammo packs and a couple boxes of cigarettes off of other soldiers effortlessly. It was as if he’d done this his entire life. He tucked a few of the packs into his own pockets before approaching Harvey and Jim as they studied a map. Edward stayed back and out of the room just in case things went south for whatever reason.   

“Nygma and I are going to practice shooting, I just wanted to let you know so you don’t panic when you hear gunshots.” He said as a matter of fact. Jim looked up first and then glanced to Harvey.   

“We just got done with a major clearance of this town. You want to waste ammo trying to teach someone to shoot?” 

 “He’s a medic, kid, he doesn’t have to know how to shoot.” Harvey said with a nod.   

“He also has to watch his own back. You saw him get nipped by a bullet. It probably wouldn’t have happened if he had known how to shoot. Not to mention the people he could save while under fire as well.” Jim and Harvey were both silent, “Lieutenant Bullock, I have heard you have a penchant for taking wagers.”

  “No.” Jim said, seeing Harvey’s eyes light up in interest. Harvey held his hand out to silence Jim. 

  “I might. What’s your point?” He asked leaning over the back of his chair to get a better look at the smaller man. Oswald took out two packs of smokes from his pockets and set them on the table.   

“I will bet you these that I can get Edward Nygma to shoot a target by the end of the day.” He said with a nod. Harvey looked over the packs. They were new and full. He turned his attention back to Oswald and grinned at him, shaking his hand. 

  “You got until sundown.”   Oswald gave the man a nod and walked out of the room, grabbing Ed by the forearm and dragging him along. Jim gave Harvey a good long look.  

“What?”

  “We need that ammo for reserves.”   

Harvey shrugged, “We’re supposed to be teaming up with British tanks in a couple days. They’ll bring their own ammo with them. If Ed really fucks up and misses all his shots, we’ll just radio them in and make sure that they bring enough. Besides, I’d rather Nygma know how to fire his gun. Maybe then I can have him watch your back instead of stitching it up.”

  “Ha. You’ve really got quite the sense of humor.”  

“My ma told me I should have been a comedian.” Harvey said with a grin, turning his attention back to the map, “If we cut up along here we should be able to stay closer to the coast. That should help in getting more supplies to us if we need them.” He explained.

“Ed’s a good soldier already.”

  “This isn’t a place for just ‘good’ soldiers, Jim. You know that. I know that. The entire platoon knows that. If Nygma can actually fire a pistol in the field maybe he might save a few more lives.”

~~~

Ed held up the pistol and aimed it at the tin can targets Oswald had set up on a fence close by. He closed one eye and held the gun a little too tightly, arm flexed and straight. His finger drifted to the trigger and-

“Stop. What the hell are you doing?” Oswald asked dryly, standing behind Ed. The man lowered his gun.   

“Going to shoot?”  

“With that stance you’re going to get recoil and break your arm or have it come flying back to hit you in the face.” He said. He took Ed’s gun from his hand and opened the man’s hand. His fingers traced over Ed’s middle and ring finger, “You’re going to want to really be gripping the gun with these fingers, you just want your pinky to just rest there.” He placed the gun back into Ed’s hands, “Try again. Show me.”  

Ed gripped the gun how Oswald showed him and pointed it at the cans again. His knuckles were white with how hard they were gripping the gun. Oswald walked up to him again and gently placed his hand over the other’s.   

“Relax just a little bit. If the gun starts shaking around you won’t be able to control where you’re shooting.”   

“Pay close attention during training, did you?” Ed asked, looking over at the shorter man. Oswald laughed just a little bit and shook his head.   

“No. I knew how to shoot long before I joined the military.”   Ed lowered his gun, “Why?”  Oswald rolled his shoulders back, ignoring the question, “Show me your stance again.” Ed sighed and held the gun up again. Oswald walked up behind him, “Wait. Stay still.”

He put his hands on Ed’s hips and repositioned them a little bit. His foot kicked the inside of Ed’s stance, nudging him to stand a little wider. Nygma could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, but swallowed it down. Now wasn’t the time nor place for that. 

 “You want your hand to support right here.” He moved Ed’s hand up to grip underneath the gun and pulled it back a little, letting the man’s arm bend, “There. If you can avoid shooting one handed you should. Now aim at the target.” Ed closed one of his eyes again and Oswald shook his head. He pushed the gun down so it was point at the ground, “Both eyes open, Ed.” He said, lightly patting the man’s face with one hand. He stepped to the side again and let Ed raise the gun again.  
Ed took a steady breath and opened both his eyes to take aim at the targets and fired. One of the tin cans pipped at being hit, but didn’t completely fall over. Oswald clapped.  

“Very nice. Now hit the target.” He said dryly. Ed shot him a disgruntled look before taking aim yet again. He fired. This time the tin can pinged as it was hit and fell off the fence post. Oswald smiled at him, “Good. Again.” 

Ed took his time, walking down the line and shooting at the cans. It took a couple tries for each one, but he smiled brightly as the very last can was hit and fell to the ground. Oswald grinned and clapped the man on the shoulder.

~~~

It didn’t take long for Jim and Harvey to join Oswald and Ed down where they had been practicing. Jim stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced over as Harvey lit up a cigarette, waiting for Ed to shoot.   

“I’m telling you this isn’t going to end well.” Jim said, shaking his head.   

“Funny, I say that to myself every day when I’m walking towards a bunch of Germans with you at the front.” Harvey said with a grin, tucking the cigarette between his teeth again, “We shooting today, Ed?” He called out. The two other medical officers, Mario Calvi and Gerald Crane sat by on the hillside, laughed slightly at Harvey’s comment.  

“Give him a second.” Oswald barked back.

  “Dunno if you’ve noticed or not Cobblepot, but this is war we’re in.” He said taking a deep drag. 

 Ed checked his gun as Oswald watched closely. He glanced over at the other medical officers, frowning before looking back up at Oswald.  

“They weren’t supposed to be here.” He muttered. Oswald glanced over at the other two and then back to Ed.   

“Then show them what you’re capable of. They won’t be laughing for long.” Oswald said, patting Ed’s arm before standing at his side. Oswald has set up the cans as they had been earlier. Ed took a shaky breath, hearing a snicker from Mario.   

“Hey, can it.” Harvey’s gruff voice barked at them. Mario rolled his eyes.   

“He’s a doctor, Lieutenant. Our job isn’t to-”

BANG. BANG. BANG. Ed’s pistol went off three times. With each shot, the cans were knocked over. Jim stared, wide eyed and slack jawed.   

“No fucking way….” He said in mild disbelief. Ed returned the safety on his gun and pocketed it before going to pick up the cans. He tossed one to Oswald, a bullet hole straight threw it. Oswald held it over his head.

  “I believe you owe me two fresh packs of cigarettes, Lieutenant Bullock.” Oswald said, walking up to him. He set the can in Harvey’s hand and took the pack of smokes from the man’s breast pocket. He popped one in his mouth and lit it up with his own lighter, at least having the manners to not blow smoke in Bullock’s face. 

  “Luck doesn’t get you very far, Cobblepot.” Harvey said with a bemused look. Edward looked like he had just won the lottery. Harvey tossed the can back to Edward, who caught it quickly. He gave a nod, “You got a job now, Nygma. People start shooting at your patients, you shoot them back.”  

Jim smiled at Ed, giving him a nod before following Bullock back up the hill towards the town. 

  “You still owe him a pack.” Jim pointed out, teasing.  

“You’re on his side now?” Harvey mocked offense.   “Like you said, it’s better to have Nygma watching my back than patching it up.”   

Oswald couldn’t help but grin as Harvey and Jim walked out of sight. Ed stood next to him, smiling just as brightly. 

  “We actually beat Harvey Bullock in a bet.” He said with a small laugh, running a hand through his hair.  
    
“I’m not too fond of losing bets.” Oswald said with a shrug, “You did quite a good job, Ed.”  

“Wouldn’t have been able to do it without you.” Ed said, turning to face the other man.   Oswald scoffed and waved his hand with a small smile. He expected thanks from Ed. What he didn’t expect was a pair of arms encircling his torso. He could feel Ed’s forehead pressed against his shoulder as the man hugged him. But just as he was starting to get comfortable in the embrace, hugging back, Ed let go. 

  “Thank you.” He said quickly, head turning down as he began walking back towards the camp. Oswald blinked as he was left standing in the middle of the field with a smoking cigarette in his hand. 

~~~  
That evening, Harvey walked up to Oswald as he and Nygma sat together. He grabbed Cobblepot’s hand and slapped two things in it: A pack of cigarettes and a few stamps.   

“I know you been writing your mom. I don’t need those stamps.” He said. Oswald looked down, setting the cigarettes to the side and looked at the stamps as if Harvey had just given him gold coins. The lieutenant didn’t even wait for a thank you before leaving the building to go out into the night air. It was almost time for his own watch anyway.   

Jim was already standing at the edge of the town, eyes carefully looking over the surrounding countryside. He heard the noise of footsteps suddenly behind him and jumped, gun snapped and at the ready, pointing straight at Harvey.   Harvey held his hands up.  

“Down, boy. Jesus. You know for all the guys here you’re still the jumpiest.” He said with an eye roll, “Thought you would have been used to it by now.”  
 “It’s not time for your shift yet.” Jim lowered his gun and slung it back over his shoulder. Harvey shrugged and stepped up to stand lookout next to Jim.     
“I got time to kill. Had to drop off some cigarettes and stamps with Cobblepot.”   

Jim nodded, kicking the dirt a little, “Why don’t you use those?” He asked after a long bout of silence.

 “Cigarettes? I do use them. Quite frequently.”

  “No. Stamps.” Jim said with a small eye roll, “We’ve been serving together for almost two years now and I’ve never seen you mail a letter or write to anyone back home.”     
Harvey shrugged, “Who the hell would I write to? This is the second time I’ve been over here. I’ve seen what letters can do to people. Especially when they don’t come home.” He shook his head, “I’m not gonna do that to someone.”  

“There’s gotta be someone.”  

Harvey shook his head again, “Nope. Keep my expectations low and my relationships short these days. It’s easier and I don’t gotta worry about shaving too frequently.”

  “Harvey.”  

“I’ve got quite delicate skin, Jim. Shaving is not good for me.” He said, trying to lighten the mood. But even in the dark he could see Jim’s expression, “I already told you, Jim. I’m not gonna do that to someone. Not when I don’t know if I’m gonna be lucky enough to make it home this time.”   Jim frowned, but nodded anyway.   “Besides.” Harvey pointed out, “You’re the only person I’d probably write to and I’ve got your sorry ass standing next to me this whole time.” He smiled. 

Jim smiled back at him, a warmth spreading through his chest at the compliment.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always love comments and kudos!


	4. Notebooks & Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harvey can't escape his nightmares, Oswald pushes Ed a little too far, and a group of British tanks show up to escort G Company on to their next location.
> 
> Some lovely Gordlock scenes in this one for @selene-yoshi-chan on tumblr as it is her OTP and her art is so inspiring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone pointed out to me that I forgot to change out Oswald's letter at the beginning of the chapter, so here's a repost!

Dear Mother,

We’re still waiting on the reinforcements from Britain. You would like it here. The town we’re in is quite lovely. Of course there are a few walls missing on some of the buildings, but that was our own fault. It’s quiet here. Much different than the city. More like how you told me your childhood home was. I learned the other day that Edward knows how to draw. Maybe I’ll have him draw a picture of the countryside for you since I don’t have a camera with me. He’s turning into a better solider. I shot him how to shoot a gun the other day. He’s a brave man. I’m quite lucky to have a friend like him.

I miss having a bed. We have to share sleeping quarters around here. I miss having my own bed. But it’s not like we get much sleep here anyway. Sleep doesn’t come easy for soliders. Maybe it will again one day. I’ll write soon. I love you very much. 

 

Love, Oswald

Harvey rubbed his eyes as he walked away from his post. Swap out. Alvarez said that he could handle it from that point until dawn, which gave Harvey just enough time to settle down for a few hours of rest. He hoped. Harvey and sleep didn’t usually get along, be it on the battlefield or in a nice bed. He hadn’t had a full night’s rest since the last time he returned from war.

And tonight was no different. 

Mortar and dirt rained from the sky as Harvey found himself face first in the mud in the middle of No Man’s Land. He looked up, hand on his helmet trying his damnedest to keep it on as he crawled in one direction. Which way was their camp? Which way was safe? Gunfire shot off from every direction, zipping past Harvey’s head at top speed. He felt a bullet rip through his shoulder and let out a yell, grabbing at it. The blood that coated his hand was warm and sticky, he could feel the granules of dirt getting caught in his hand as they flew up around him. He tripped over something, the mud flooded into his mouth making him cough wildly. He looked around to find what he had tripped on, bracing himself for an explosion. But it wasn’t a land mine, no, it was one of his fellow soldiers. He pushed the body over to look into his face.

Jim.

It was Jim. But Jim wasn’t there he couldn’t be. Harvey shook him, yelling at him to get up, but the man would not move. Lifeless blue eyes stared up at him. All too soon the air around him seemed to grow thick with gas. Harvey found himself choking, gripping to Jim’s shirt as he still tried to shake the man awake. He dropped Jim, unable to breathe-

“Harvey- HARVEY!” Jim shook Harvey’s shoulders, waking him up. Harvey reached for his gun, but Jim’s hand stopped him, “It’s me… It’s just me.” He calmed his voice immediately, hands still on Harvey’s shoulders. 

Harvey looked around, confused to where he was. His nightmares usually didn’t get that bad, but today it seemed was one of those few and far between sort of days. He reached over and rubbed his arm shoulder where a very real bullet wound scar sat. He fought to regain his breath. 

“Hey…” Jim whispered, “It’s alright. You’re safe. You’re okay.” Harvey didn’t say anything. He just leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Jim’s shoulder, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. Jim paused, caught slightly off guard by the gesture, but wrapped his arms around Harvey’s shoulders, rubbing his back and the back of his neck. “I’ve got ya.” He whispered. They stayed like that for longer than Harvey would openly admit. Jim sat next to him against one of the buildings and passed him a cigarette. Harvey looked at it and then back up at Jim. 

“You don’t smoke.” Harvey said, taking the cigarette from Jim.

“I know, but you do. And you look like you could use one.”

Harvey rubbed his face, “I was really hoping to get some goddamn sleep tonight.”

“You got a couple hours.” Jim said looking at his watch. Harvey looked over at it as well. 

“Goody.” He reached over and took Jim’s arm, looking at the watch a bit more closely, “Whew, look at you Mr. Fancy Watch. You pick this up off of some Officer or something?” He asked. 

Jim shook his head, “Nah. I inherited it from my dad when he passed. He was a soldier too though.”

Harvey’s smile dropped a little, “Yeah you were tellin’ me. So what, you’re trying to live up to his name then?”

“In a way. Hopefully I won’t get sick the way he did.”

“What did him in? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Delayed reaction from Mustard Gas.”

Harvey tensed a little at the mention of that weapon. He’d had first hand experience with the issues that poison could cause. His grip around the cigarette tightened a little bit. Jim noticed.

“You alright, Harv?”

“Fine.”

“Your hand’s shaking.” He said. Sure enough, Harvey looked down at his hand to see it trembling lightly, “You sure you don’t wanna talk about that nightmare?”

Harvey took a deep breath, “I mean it’s nothin’ I haven’t had before. Just… felt very real. being caught in no man’s land. Trying to save-” he hesitated, “Trying to save fellow soldiers and not being cut out to do it.” He took a long drag of his cigarette, stubbing it out halfway through.

Jim gave him a confused look, “Not in the mood to smoke?” He asked.

“Not after dreaming of choking on air.” He rubbed a hand through his hair before tying it back again. 

“You need a haircut.”“I’ve fought more powerful man than you who have tried to cut my hair, Kid.” Harvey said with a smile, “You’ll have to drag me kicking and screaming.”

From inside the Cafe, Oswald watched Harvey and Jim interact. He lit a lamp and set it on one of the tables next to Edward.

“Those two are getting awfully cozy.” 

Ed glanced out the window, “Yeah. They’re good friends. You should have seen them during training. I didn’t think anyone could be more of a hardass than Harvey, but then Jim showed up.” He shrugged just a little and began undoing his shirt so that Oswald could take a look at his shoulder, “Thanks again for doing this. I mean I could if I had a mirror-”

“Yeah? And you might accidentally stab yourself trying to simultaneously hold the mirror and your scissors.” He said, picking up the scissors in question from Ed’s kit. He pushed the fabric of Ed’s shirt down just a little bit to look at the stitching, “It looks like they’re ready to come out. A little red still, but nothing that isn’t fused together.” He took to snipping the stitches carefully, “You’ll have a little bit of a scar here.” 

Ed shrugged his other shoulder, “That’s fine. We’re in war. I didn’t expect to get out of this without any scars.”

Oswald went to work, carefully removing each stitch. Ed’s hand opened and curled back into a fist as Oswald pulled the threads out of his skin carefully. He set the scissors back down and began rebandaging Edward’s shoulder carefully. He glanced down to where Ed was fiddling with the hem of his sleeve, keeping it pulled down over his forearm. 

“This isn’t gonna be the first scar you have, is it?” Oswald asked after a long silence. He felt Ed immediately tense under his touch as he finished bandaging him up. Edward pulled his shirt back on quickly, buttoning it. Oswald bit his lip, drawing his hands away, “I mean, we all have scars… I have a lot too if- if you wanted to-”

“Thanks for helping me with the stitches. I do appreciate it.” Ed said quickly, standing up and leaving the room as fast as his feet could carry him without running. Oswald sighed and sat back down at the table.

He didn’t understand. They were just scars. Oswald had plenty. They made him stronger he felt. But clearly Ed thought very differently.

Ed didn’t eat with Oswald the next morning. He kept to himself on the other side of the camp, not really speaking to anyone. Oswald watched him with concern. He knew Ed liked to keep to himself, but this was an extreme even for him. Just as he finished his own meal, Mario stormed up to the table he was at.

“What did you do?” Mario asked, towering over Oswald as the man ate his breakfast.

“What do you mean?”

Mario nodded to Ed, “I need to know what you did to him to get him to shut up. He’s been silent all morning. No riddles, no random facts, nothing. You were the last one to talk to him last night so what did you do?” 

“Nothing!” Oswald looked over to Ed, concern growing on his face. Ed was never a quiet one. And when he was it was… well it was scary.

“Fix it. We’ve got some British tanks coming in today, which means we ship out tomorrow. We need him. So whatever you did, you fix it.” Mario threatened, leaving Oswald sitting there by himself. Oswald rubbed a hand over his face. Did what he say last night about scars really upset Edward all that much? The man was a medical officer, surely he understood that-

Oswald was jogged out of his thoughts by the rumble of tanks approaching from the distance. He tensed, grabbing for his gun just in case they weren’t the tanks they were expecting. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Easy, Cobblepot. Just that’s our escort out of here.” Harvey said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The bags under his eyes had gotten a little worse as he found he couldn’t sleep after that nightmare he had the night before. The sunlight hurt his eyes, but there wasn’t any time for recovery or rest in this line of work.

The tanks came to a stop half way through the town. Their commanding officer riding on the top of one. He hopped down, taking his helmet off for the sake of politeness and walked over to Harvey.

“You must be the American’s we’re supposed to team up with.” He said, saluting before extending his hand. The man was slightly taller than Harvey, his posture that of an extremely well disciplined soldier, “Lieutenant Alfred Pennyworth, sir, at your service.”

“Lieutenant Bullock.” He said, shaking Alfred’s hand, “Nice to meet you. You guys have news from your officers on where we’re supposed to meet?”

“Merely where we’re supposed to meet, you and I need to see exactly what might be the safest route to take. They wouldn’t speak about exactly what they have planned over the radios. You understand.”

Harvey sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, “I understand, I just don’t like it.” He took a deep breath, “It’s fine. Come on in.” He motioned for Alfred to follow him. He gestured to Jim, “This is my co-commander of this platoon, Lieutenant James Gordon. Jim this is Alfred. He’s group will be headed with us across the boarder.” 

Jim grinned at Alfred and shook his hand, “It’ll be nice to not have to walk for a few miles at least.”

“Alternatively, I think my men would love a chance to stretch their legs a bit. We’d be happy to give you a lift. Shall we?” Alfred gestured to one of the buildings where they could talk about where the companies were headed.

Oswald walked behind them, listening quietly to their conversation before strolling across the road to stand in front of Edward. The man was still picking at his breakfast, looking over his notebook when Oswald’s shadow cast over him. He looked up slowly and bean putting away his food. Oswald crouched down and stop him. “…I upset you last night.” He said quietly.

Ed swallowed his last bite of food and continued packing up. “You didn’t upset me. It’s fine.”

“You are a terrible liar, Edward.” He licked his lips, “I don’t know why I upset you so much last night. But… for whatever reason it was I’m sorry.” He looked up at him, “We’re already fighting so many people and- and I don’t want to fight you.”

Ed gave him a long hard look, “I just- I don’t like talking about my scars. I like to forget about them if I can. People… people don’t have scars like I do. Anything they get out here? They can be proud of them. They get to tell a story of heroics. Not me.” He shook his head, packing up his things, “So thank you for your apology, really, I do appreciate it. But I don’t think you can understand what I’ve been through.”

Oswald licked his back teeth in thought before grabbing Edward by the scruff of his uniform, dragging him up into a standing position. For as short as Oswald was, he was quite strong compared to Ed. He dragged the man back and around the corner of one of the buildings. He shoved Edward against the wall and began unbuttoning his uniform. Edward’s eyes went wide and a blush covered his cheeks.

“Wh-what are you doing?!” He asked in a harsh whisper, “Anyone sees you like this and you could get court marshaled or worse.”

“Shut up for a moment, Ed. I’m not doing anything that’s going to get me court marshaled.” He said, taking off the top of his uniform. Ed had done his best to keep his eyes fixed on Oswald’s face, but finally let his gaze look lower. His jaw dropped just a little bit and his expression softened. Oswald’s entire torso was peppered with scars. Oswald gestured to some raised bumps along his ribs, “I got these when I got beaten by a couple of higher level muscle in the Narrows. They wanted to break in some new brass knuckles after I tried to run. This-” He pointed at a long slash across his torso, “Was because I angered a bar manager for trying to take from the register.” He took a deep breath and turned around so Ed could see his back, covered in scars as well, “The ones on my left shoulder are from a shotgun that my mother and mine’s previous landlord shot at us when we were leaving the apartment.”

Ed spotted some odd shaped scars on Oswald’s hips and lower back, long lines that crisscrossed his skin. Ed reached out to touch them, his fingertips just barely brushing Oswald’s skin, “And these?” He asked slowly. Oswald flinched away from him when the man touched them.

“…North Africa. I got into a fight with another soldier.” Ed could tell that he wasn’t telling the full truth, but didn’t press further. Oswald swallowed and turned back around, facing Edward, “…Life is… horrible, Edward. Believe me. No one knows what it’s like to claw their way up from nothing like I do. I don’t know what your scars are from. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But please don’t think that you have to hide them from me or be ashamed of them.” He began buttoning up his uniform making a move to leave when Ed’s hand darted out to stop him.

Edward didn’t look directly at him, but rolled up the sleeve on his arm, revealing several white, raised scars that laid across his forearm, “…Here. You can look.” he said, his hand balled into a fist as he showed his scars to Oswald. The smaller soldier hesitated for a moment, looking up at Ed, “Go ahead, you let me touch yours, you can touch mine. It’s fine.”

Oswald reached out with a gentle hand and brushed along the man’s scars, watching him tense up more than he had ever seen. He drew his hand away. “Ed if you don’t want me to-”

“No. It’s fine.” He muttered, taking a deep breath, “I’m just… They’re ugly. Yours tell stories and-”

“They all tell stories of times when I was a coward… I don’t think yours are ugly, though. You’re not an ugly person, Edward. If that’s what you’re afraid of.” Oswald affirmed. He looked up at the other man and smiled gently, “You don’t have to tell me about them. If you don’t want. You just don’t have to be ashamed of them.” He said calmly. Oswald finished buttoning up his own uniform, “We should get back.” He turned on his heel to walk away.

Edward looked at the scars on his arm and traced them with his own fingertips, not used to the feeling. He avoided touching his forearm as much as humanly possible, hating the scars that marked his body. Baby steps, he told himself. Maybe one day he’d be able to tell Oswald about them. 

“Oswald.” Ed called back out. Oswald stopped, looking back at him. Ed offered him a small smile, “Thank you.” He said with a nod.

“And you’re sure this guy is trust worthy?” Harvey said, looking up from a piece of correspondence that Alfred had given him.

“No.” Alfred said honestly, “He’s a spy. You American’s recommended him to us and so far he’s been quite useful. But I wouldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. But all the information he’s been giving to us so far has worked out in our favor. Besides, one of your commanding officers, Colonel Barnes I think it is, is currently watching him quite closely.”

“Goody.” Harvey rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the map, “Fuck. I didn’t want to head to that town, that entire area is crawling with krauts.” Harvey poured over the map, “We can take this route.” he said, pointing along an area that was flanked by a river, “It should keep us safe on that side. We’ll have access to water for the men and if we run into anyone there should be plenty of cover along the riverbank.”

“For your men on foot, perhaps.” Alfred piped up, “My men are in tanks. We can’t hide behind trees.” 

“Here.” Jim said, pointing at a different area of the map, “There isn’t much cover along this route by way of trees or buildings, but on the bright side we’d be able to see anything coming at us. Plenty of hills to get down behind. And once we start getting closer to the town we can cut down towards the river for extra cover. That work for everyone?”

Harvey and Alfred looked at each other, nodding, “Works fine for me.” “I’ll tell my men to start packing it up.” Alfred gave a small salute to Jim and Harvey. 

“How come you never salute me like that?” Harvey asked teasingly.

“I’ll do it when you earned it.” Jim laughed, walking outside. Harvey followed close behind. “G COMPANY!” Jim’s booming voice echoed out, “We’re heading out. We’ve got about ten miles before we hit the next town. Expect altercations along the way. Just because we have tanks with us, don’t be lazy. Pack up! We move out in 10 minutes.” Jim turned around to see a smirking Harvey behind him, “What?”

Harvey held up his hands, “Nothin’. Just haven’t seen you use terms like ‘don’t be lazy’ since basic training. Doubting your soldiers, are we, Lieutenant?” 

Jim let out a small laugh, “Just you.”

“I’m hurt.”

Oswald finished tucking his uniform shirt back into his trousers before walking back to grab his kit and gun. Ed made a move to follow him, but was stopped. Mario put a firm hand on the man’s chest. Oswald turned around when he realized Ed wasn’t following him.

“We gotta check supply levels. He’ll catch up to you.” Mario turned back around once Oswald left, “Are you done moping?”

“I wasn’t moping.” Ed said, pushing his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. 

“That so?” Mario held up the notebook that Ed usually carried around and opened it, thumbing through pages. “Because you don’t normally wax poetic in here. But whatever Cobblepot said to you about that shit on your arm really got to you huh?” Ed paled as Mario read aloud from his journal, “ ‘He must think so little of me now’… Doesn’t sound like field notes to me.”Ed paled and made a grab for the notebook. Mario held it just far away enough that even Ed’s lanky arms couldn’t reach. Mario hesitated before handing the journal back.

“I put this away.”“You dropped it. I was going to run it to you when I saw Cobblepot undressing for you.”“It’s not-”

“Save it, Ed.” Mario said firmly, “Look. I don’t care what it actually was. But this shit?” He gestured to the journal, “Anyone finds that, you know what can happen. You’re a good doctor, Nygma. A really good one. I don’t want to see you discharged. You keep your notes professional. And maybe take a few steps back from him. He’s not good for you.” Mario patted his shoulder and walked away towards the tanks. Ed clutched onto his notebook tightly, glancing at Mario as he left. He swallowed thickly, looking in the direction that Oswald had gone before making his decision.

“Hey.” Oswald looked up from packing up his bag. Ed stood over him, pack already slung across his back, “Can I ride with you?” Ed asked, fumbling with the edge of his shoulder strap. Oswald stood, slinging his gun over a shoulder. He nodded, putting his helmet on.

“Sure. I’d like that.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love feedback please!


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